


Encampment Atrocities

by Giligan_Grapes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur-centric, Light-Hearted, set after Shady Belle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giligan_Grapes/pseuds/Giligan_Grapes
Summary: Everyone’s boy Arthur Morgan gets on the bad side of Dutch van der Linde, only to end up somewhere he never could have anticipated. Spoiler: it is not Tahiti.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue

Implementing an entry toll was showing Dutch’s true desperation. 

“Are you for real, Dutch?!” Arthur stormed up to the gang’s leader after Bill pestered him into paying 50 cents for apparently stepping over an invisible border between the outside and their camp. “From now on we can only come and go after taxation?” 

“Do not be deceitful now, Arthur. You may leave any time you please but your re-admittance to the camp is conditional upon a smaller forfeiture to the greater creed”, came the usual Dutch-esque explanation. However, they could not tolerate his camp etiquette changes any longer.

“That sounds reassuring to some I reckon, but do oblige me, do we need to pay this tax each time we step out for a piss?”

John’s head perked up in annoyance. “We should time out our piss-taking so that anything extending over a minute should be charged, does that sound right with you fellas?”

“Oh John, you the one to talk? We would get rich from all the time you up and leave, you fool” Javier piped in. A smaller crowd started to assemble around the arguing parties.

“Perhaps we could elicit a vote about this?” Trelawny asked in earnest. Everyone in hearing distance stared at him in disbelief. 

“The last time we elicited a vote about something only two bones and a nose were broken, we should definitely go for it” Arthur replied dryly. Dutch had enough of the impromptu debate session and stepped on a nearby stool to speak to his people.

“This is not up to consensus my friends, this is a choice I had to make to upkeep this gang. Do you find it that hard to understand that our very living comes at a cost that we should all contribute towards? I kept a good look at our ledger, its empty pages are screaming. We need not dwell on this any longer, we have other, more urgent problems at hand.“

Most people dispersed after hearing him out, with Arthur and Dutch remaining to discuss the contested aspects of, well, their existence at that point.

“Arthur, I would’ve never taken you for a man who stooped so low as to challenge my decisions about such a trifling matter” Dutch sighed. “What has gotten into you lately?”

“I don’t know, maybe if you go about exacting petty taxes, we could also be petty in turn. This is not a damn brothel, Dutch, at least not until Pearson serves my lunch clothed in naught but a petticoat, but that disgusting possibility seems to be too real if we are already paying for, pardon my French, horseshit!”

Dutch hung his head but Arthur could see it was not due to his exorbitant oratory capabilities, but something else entirely. It was unnerving how defeated Dutch looked.

“I am sorry, Arthur” he spoke hesitant and bitter. “But I do see Micah’s side now. I think we do need to send you to a remedial camp.”

Arthur felt his world slipping away. That bastard did not just do that. “The who and what and where again?”

“You cannot accommodate to the slightest of changes, my friend. You always find something to complain about, no matter what I do or say. It will do you a world of good to have your perspective… shaken up a bit”

Arthur stood his ground, he could not let himself be swayed by the sudden emphatic tone. It was one thing that Dutch let his insane energies loose on his gang after Blackwater but that he would concentrate all of it on just Arthur… surely he could see the unjust nature of that.

“The only way you can shake me up a bit is to tie me to the farther end of a galloping horse, old friend, any other way you’ll find I am quite resistant to change”

For a split second, he recognized an apologetic flash in Dutch’s eyes but before he could have knocked more sense into his mentor, a jarring voice whipped across the air between them.

“Come on, cowpoke, I am sure you stole that line from those vaudeville shows in Saint Denis. I thought that big dumb skull of yours would be incapable of retaining more than a simple sentence. You must have jotted it down in your crap-stained journal that you coddle so much. So here I stand corrected.” Micah grinned.

“I’ll get you corrected alright” Arthur started in his direction but Dutch put his hand on Arthur’s chest, putting him to a halt. Micah did not stop at a grin then, he went full-blown howling.

“Look, boss, his condition worsened in a matter of minutes. First an inane shouting match, now he’d like to resort to physical violence against his own family. We need to set this dog straight.” 

Dutch stepped away from Arthur, as if recoiling. Arthur dared a peek at his face and dreaded what would come next since he knew he could not stop it from happening anymore. Micah was too far in and he was too far out - how could he prove his loyalty when Dutch seemed partial to the loyalty of a madman? He could throw “all those years” at his feet but the only thing Dutch would do in return is to ask Micah to reshine his boots. “Save those as need saving”, his horse’s ass. Arthur was sure it was not only himself raging but Dutch’s ineptitude as well. 

The lull ended, Dutch got ready to sanction his will over the former golden boy. “Arthur, you are going to Wonder Land.”

Arthur deflated like the last crow slow enough to get under his horse’s hooves.


	2. Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch said it was John's turn to ride with Arthur!

<\---- Wonder Land

Arthur spotted the signpost directing him to his demise but was too engaged with inquiring into the odd actions of his ride-mate at that moment to check it out in detail.

“Marston, what the hell are you doin’? Why are you throwing all that food on the ground?”

John looked like a deer caught in the crossfires of a gang fight.

“Erm, Abigail packed some food for us for the journey but you know how she and cooking is… it would just mostly weigh our horses down, or even wore, our stomachs.”

“At least you could do it more evenly, this way I won’t find my way back to the camp!”

Silence came to pass. A while after, Arthur added, “You know, like Hansel and Gretel.”

“Of course I know!” John cried out in indignation. “I’ve been just thinking.”

“Too much of that and you’ll end up like someone I know”, Arthur huffed.

“Thank you for letting me know, but what I really meant to bring up is that, no offense, if Dutch does not trust you this much that he sends you away on some strange quest to Wonder Land of all places, why did not he just shoot you straight instead?”

“I get what you mean.” Arthur answered. “Let’s just hope he has an end goal or Wonder Land will be the last thing to worry about.”

John went rummaging through in his satchel with his left hand and produced a can of pineapples he triumphantly held up in the air. “We should stop and eat something actually edible.”

“Agreed.”

They hankered down next to a hill that served as a partition from the main road so that they would not be discovered as easily. Arthur checked his belongings and chose a lighter meal of apples. He lost his appetite after leaving camp.

He took out the pamphlet for Wonder Land an insistent fellow once pushed into his hand in Saint Denis. The paper was saved only because he found the background illustration captivating and wanted to sketch it at a later time which never came and the pamphlet ended up crumpled and dirty.

If you’re looking for something remedial, you cannot trust the chemical! Come up to Doctor Manny Gottlieb’s Wonder Land, just north of Strawberry, where you could find the simplest cures for your incorporeal ailments! We cannot recommend our ways of medical science enough but be advised, This will be the future of treatments! We shall heal all mental predicaments!

There was no price listed on the pamphlet, but Dutch got it covered.

_Twenty minutes earlier, in the Beaver Hollow camp_

Arthur finished brushing his horse to spruce her up before setting out and turned to Dutch, who was leaning on the closest table. “Who’s gonna pay for this, Dutch?”

“It is a non-issue, my friend.” Dutch said undeterred.

“How so?”

Dutch evaded his gaze. “Strictly speaking, nobody’s paying for it. You go there and they take care of you, period.”

“So good Samaritans ain’t a stuff of legend, it seems” Arthur concluded, no longer comfortable pushing his questions. Unfortunately he did not have anything else to say to Dutch so he closed their goodbyes short by climbing his horse and nodding his head. “This is so long then, I guess.”

“So long, Arthur.” reciprocated Dutch. With that, he rode out of camp.

Akin to a spirit who only emerges to scheme, Micah walked up to their leader to watch Arthur and John – who first bid farewell to Abigail and Jack and only then followed the older man – disappear on the road.

“Oh boss, what a genius idea to volunteer him for those experiments. Either he’ll get knocked down a few notches or he’ll be a… how did you say it? Non-issue.”

Then they twirled their moustaches in unison.


	3. The Obedient Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first stage of Arthur's "treatment" in Wonder Land.

John left him before the final approach to Wonder Land. 

“Even the air is creeping me out here. I wish you luck, my brother. Maybe we won’t ever meet again!”, he said partly in jest, but neither of them could abandon the impression it could become true.

Arthur nudged his horse into moving and shouted back after a couple paces, resenting a more exhaustive goodbye. “Hell’s gates are only guarded from the inside, John. Nothin' to fear out here, so say hello to Abigail and Jack for me.”

If the slim outlaw answered, he could not hear it, as John departed faster than Pearson’s dignity. Arthur casually but alertly rode up to the massive wall of brown fence – it was built to go higher than the neighboring pine trees.

A door to the right of Arthur opened and an older man in a yellow gown came out. “Ah, greetings to you! Are you requesting entry into Wonder Land?”

A simple no could have been enough to make all of this go away. But alas, it was either this or never returning to Dutch’s Boys ever again.

“Yes, partner”, he jumped down from his horse and lead her up to the man. “My name is… Tacitus Kilgore and I would like to get myself treated here.”

“Welcome, Mr. Kilgore – it will be your best decision yet to come here! I am Dr. Manny Gottlieb, your guidance to healing.” He stood to the side to let Arthur pass with his horse. “Please hitch your horse up there and then follow me into the office, we should get your treatment plan sorted out immediately!” Arthur noted that service in a brothel was not as quick as Wonder Land’s speed.

“Oh, a fellow scribe! But I must warn you, Mr. Kilgore, that us, meaning your doctors, will be the only ones allowed to take notes.”

‘Mr. Kilgore’ hurriedly and to a degree regretfully closed his journal. It is a good thing Dr. Gottlieb did not see his quick sketch of the doctor’s likeness, it did no justice to his withered, once stylish pencil moustache that found a new place to bloom in his nasal cavities.

With his steed taken care of (Arthur slipped her a couple beets), the two men entered the closest small cottage. As far as Arthur could see, there were small buildings, strewn around a few acres of land.

They stepped into a room, painted white, with minimal decoration and furniture – there were two chairs facing one another in the middle and a table between them. Dr. Gottlieb went to sit down on the one showing its front to the door with an almost juvenile smile. Arthur was motioned to sit on the chair that had its back to him. When he lowered himself into a sitting position, something hidden in it so far pricked him. He turned and picked up a horsehair doll.

“It seems some children came to play in your office, doctor” he joked, offering the doll back to Dr. Gottlieb.

“I am afraid you have one of my most trusted medical devices in your hand, Mr. Kilgore, one we must use now to judge your brain’s condition.”

Arthur managed a blanker look on his face than the one occupying the doll’s.

“What am I supposed to do with this gizmo here?”

Dr. Gottlieb got flustered for a moment and started to look around himself hastily. “Oh yes, fine question, this is worth nothing without this other doll” and pushed a different sized and colored figure in front of Arthur. The outlaw wanted to let out a laugh but thought better of it. Laughing could lead to more problems at a place like this.

“Let me set a scene for you, Mr. Kilgore. The one doll in your hand stands for your honest self, and the other I just gave you may stand for a person in your life you wish to speak to most but still cannot find the strength to do so. By sheer luck, you can now orchestrate a meet between yourselves with the help of these dolls, where you would have a job no less than to try to voice each side of the argument. Your side and the side of the person you would like to reach without the confines of real world interaction which can be so aimless.”

 _Dutch_. He should voice Dutch? “But this don’t make no sense, I don’t know what this other person thinks like these days!

The doctor theatrically swung out his hand. “Why Mr. Kilgore, that is the mission we have today. You must sympathize with the other and try to look at your misunderstandings in a different light.”

Arthur scoffed. “You can’t possibly gauge the scope of your request.”

“You shall try nonetheless. There is no hurt in trying.” It seemed unlikely that dr. Gottlieb would give into further objections and Arhur would be damned not to unleash the concerns that occupied his mind.

Arthur put the Arthur-doll and the Dutch-doll on his knees, opposing each other. He paused. “So I should imitate his voice or somethin’?”

“Whatever you may please, Mr. Kilgore. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.” Then, he leaned back with an expectant look.

That seemed reassuring enough. It could be just another exercise in futility, like all endeavors as of late.

The Dutch-doll spoke up first. “Hello, Tacitus.”

“Hello, uh”, he racked his brain for one of Dutch’s aliases but could not come up with any. He spit out a name he could conjure up the fastest. “Uncle.”

“So your issues are of familial nature?” Dr. Gottlieb interjected. 

“I s’pose. As I was saying… hello Uncle, I think we should talk about some things”

“What things, son? We haven’t much time for idle chitchat” Dutch-doll demanded. Arthur already felt a spike in his pressure. Maybe he should go a bit slower lest the doll should suffer his anger. Scratch that, the doll could go ahead and bear some pressure, he himself had to go about every day with hell breathing down his neck. At least the Dutch-doll seemed to be more comforting in its simplicity than its real-life counterpart, without the adorns and mannerisms of a big time outlaw. Arthur never would have thought his relationship with a doll could be this complex.

“You gotta listen to me Uncle, because when you don’t listen things keep happenin’ that should not be happenin’.”

“Why would I indulge a naysayer? Keeping up with your incessant nagging became a chore, A… Tacitus. You better get your emotions in check.” It started to get heated and Arthur found it harder to not let real information slip. What if that is what this doctor is getting at? He could be with the Pinkertons, attempting to draw out a confession out of the right hand man. Truth be told – he could not air anything out about the camp other than poisonous gas that accompanied Micah’s every utterance. And he meant that literally. If Micah made a peep, he felt sick. Dutch got addicted instead.

“I, we need you to be more transparent, Uncle. I am asked to see your side all the time and this fella is also…” he glanced at the doctor who shook his head and murmured ‘no immersion-breaking’ ”Don’t mind that. My point is, can you just speak the truth? We have to be together in this, not just you and… Mr. Snake” he should have known Micah would appear even in his fantasies. 

“Interesting, maybe we should also incorporate this new person?” dr. Gottlieb asked, already reaching into his apparently never-ending stock of dolls. 

“Would you just kindly be an observer, doctor?” Arthur snapped. So much for immersion breaking.

“My apologies.”

Unfortunately, Arthur got the feeling his acting spurt simmered down. He was not as unimaginative as John, but he was no tale-spinner like Dutch either and that could be a good thing, he pondered. Then his thoughts took another turn and superstitions crept into the forefront of his mind. Charles once told him about the Natives’ dolls - how they would use them to remember the dead. He hoped he did not curse Dutch by playing out an imaginary scenario.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not wish to make fun of real-life treatments but I do want to make light of the Arthur/Dutch dynamic - I need it after my playthrough and maybe others would be interested in it, too.


	4. Disagreeable Practices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everbody needs money.

Arthur was escorted out after the doll-session and was promised a swift evaluation once again. Dr. Gottlieb told him to make himself comfortable in the settlement in the meantime.

He decided he would look for those who may have taken up residence in the cottages and question them about the place, but the whole area seemed empty of life, the only source of light came from the skies. Arthur trusted people were reposing somewhere and he was not the only one around there besides the doctor. To add to his confusion, there were not even any guards present. He was not afraid of a vacant lot, no, far from that – it was the ambiance that bugged him. He only had a knife packed since Dutch instructed to leave his weapons at camp (“You need to go unarmed, Arthur, they’ll take care of you”), therefore he would not appreciate safety-related challenges.

The door to the nearest cottage to the doctor’s office was thrown open and a gored person nose-dived out. Arthur slinked behind a stack of wheelbarrows as he did not have time to get back to the office building. He saw enough of the Skinners’ work to recognize their victim without seeing the detached scalp flapping around, he had an unrestricted view regardless. It appears the horrid bunch took a trip up north to have themselves a bit of an unholy congress and he would have put an end to it, had he had just one sorry piece of gun on him.

The Skinners came out to inspect their collapsed victim. There were three of them - each looked uglier than the last.

“This one resisted the purging”, croaked the one Arthur wished to demolish with a shotgun blast between the eye, kicking the now-dead body on the ground. “The doctor shan’t be pleased.”

That no-good doctor was in cahoots with the Skinners? He will make sure to feed those dolls to him right before he escapes. Dutch cannot hold this above his head, he came here and fulfilled his part, it was by no fault of his own that Wonder Land was overtook by criminals much worse than their gang.

“Don’t give no damn about no doctor”, grumbled Shotgun Blast II.

“You want that easy money? Then shut up and dun’ kill those he said he wanted to ass-purimend on first.” the third ghoul squabbled back.

“We dun’ need money” Shotgun Blast II persisted.

“Goddangit, you should have stayed back if you babble this much. I told you to come here if you wanted to do sumthin’ different, and here we are, making money off what we do best, and ol’ naggin’ sumbitch is bein’ a pain in the ass.” Ghoul picked up the feet of the corpse. “Now help me or I swear I’ll cut your belly open next!”

The two of them started to carry the body in the direction of the doctor’s office, closing in on Arthur. He peeked at their belts and he saw they had tomahawks, knifes, and smaller handguns on them – they must have stored their long-range weapons in one of the cottages or at the very least, someplace nearby. If only he could check the area before confronting them first…

He would need to distract them promptly or he was as good as dead. He slowly stood up and called out to the Skinners, raising his hands in the air.

“Fellas…” they promptly released the body and aimed their guns at him. “Dr. Gottlieb sent me up to check on you. I’m his new assistant.”

“Take one more step and we’ll put ya on your ass-instant alright!”, Ghoul shouted in reply. “He dun work with none but us!” 

Even Dutch himself could not charm these animals. How could he appeal to them?

“Yeah well, I was sent on behalf of a benefactor who would like to invest in his… practices” he tweaked his story, desperately wishing they would not catch up to his lies. “He approves of the extreme rough-handling of subjects, he is an advocate of the, uh, Bell-school.”

Ghoul and the Shotgun Blast twins glared at him suspiciously.

“He does talk like them funny business guys”, Ghoul concluded. ”Let’s ask the doc if we should kill him just for that.”

Oh, the good Lord above. Not like he did not need to fight his way out of almost every interaction he had in this life, it just happened that this time, odds were heavily against his favor. 

A window creaked open behind Arthur and he heard Dr. Gottlieb’s voice. He must have watched the altercation between them from his office.

“Please bring Mr. Kilgore in here, I need to talk to him as his evaluation is ready.”

Shotgun Blast I snickered. “Such a good name, mister, we gun kill and gore you when the doc is done with ya’!”

They compelled him to start moving with a shot at his feet. Arthur relented and headed for Dr. Gottlieb, keeping an eye on his kidnappers.

When he stepped on the threshold of the office, Ghoul forcefully shoved his gun in a downwards motion at his shoulder blade, making him kneel on the ground. Dr. Gottlieb was sitting in the chair where Arthur was seated previously, now turned towards the door.

“Leave us be, please”, the doctor ordered the Skinners. “Clean up the mess outside. I will deal with him for now.”

“We won’t be out for long” Ghoul answered, stealing a hungry glance at Arthur before they slammed the door shut.

“Just why would you get associated with them Skinners?” Arthur spat immediately. “Weren’t you supposed to help folk?”

“Oh well, at first I wanted to study them, more precisely their brains. I sought to find out what made them so prone to violence, but me and my group of scientist compadres were soon accosted by these people. They brutalized us and I was the last one they intended to kill. In those moments, I was prepared to make a deal with the devil to make it out alive, so I offered them assistance drawing in people in my stead…”

“I’m sure their kin will notice no one’s coming back from this place”, Arthur interrupted.

“Don’t be ignorant, son. You think I could survive in the wild relying on the sole, hm, service of my associates? I’ve been funneling government money into this settlement, Mr. Kilgore. Officials pay out relatives of my patients so they wouldn’t bother us, in turn I vowed I would help eradicate Skinners from Tall Trees by inventing a trustworthy method of hypnosis treatment I would use to manipulate their minds. Of course, they are extremely resistant to any form of suggestion and I deemed it easier to share my funding and my… guests with them instead, in exchange for my prolonged well-being.”

Arthur had a difficult time processing the information dump. Skinners participating in an elaborate plan to prey on the incoming people searching for a remedy, while this unhinged doctor stole government money? He didn’t care for the hypnosis part, since he personally knew the hypnosis ambassador of outlaws. He was the one who sent him here, so he knew it was bullshit anyway. Or maybe it wasn’t since he _was_ here.

“Why do you target the mentally unwell, you goddamned piece of shit?”, he asked the most logical question that came up next.

“Skinners prefer to hunt the able-bodied” argued Dr. Gottlieb, a.k.a Shotgun Blast IV. “I could have gone for tourists, perhaps, but I did not want to attract foreign attention.”

“They will not spare you, you idiot. They will tear you apart, same as everybody else.”

“Mr. Kilgore, I am sure you noticed you relinquished control at the gates of Wonder Land. What may happen to me is the least of your concerns.” the doctor discounted.

“My friends will come for me…” Arthur threatened.

“They want what’s best for you. And what could be better than what the doctor prescribes?” Dr. Gottlieb rose up from his perch and began to walk around the room in a circle. “Let me acquaint you with my judgment in connection with your mental health. You are unstable, son. You must rein back your denouncing nature and invoke a pleasant, agreeable mood.” He passed Arthur. The outlaw fidgeted a bit, he really wanted to go for the doctor’s neck but he would still be in a vulnerable position. He could fend off the Skinners in the house for a short while, that’s a given, but he could not last for more than minutes. “Not so long ago, charlatans thought that in order to gain amicable spirits it was enough to place a horseshoe on someone’s head. We've improved since then. It is in poor taste to trust animal’s extremities or equipment on them, they are prone to unpredictability. Conclusively, we shall turn to the organic values and apply a dosage of cow’s blood into your system to alter your unwell state.”

Did Dutch know about this? Could it be that he had planned to dispose of him this utterly disdainful way? Someone absolutely did not get the right knowledge on Wonder Land before sending him here.

Arthur found himself speaking calmly, even though his mind was racing.

“I ain’t that kind of a _cowboy_ , doctor.”

Dr. Gottlieb tried his damnedest to look like he simply offered a sip of whiskey to him.

“If you’re here it means your peers gave up on you. ‘Wonder Land’ was not named after miracles – no, son, it was named after lost souls just like yourself.”


	5. Friends Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from Micah's POV so we are well into scum territory now.

_two days earlier_

Micah has been called a nihilistic shithead, opportunistic rat, depraved sadist – these days, he felt like the dark side of the moon, with the hungry wolves howling up and him listening carefully, scheming. His luminous side, Dutch, was none the wiser, too preoccupied with trying to stop the noise. By far the fattest and rowdiest wolf was Arthur, that cowpoke, goody ol’ henchman, but he concocted something delicious just for him to eat and he was ready to get it served by no other but Dutch himself.

A prime opportunity to show his cards came up when Dutch asked him to ride along with him for the afternoon.

“Comin’, boss” he got up leisurely from his usual seat in front of Dutch’s tent. Arthur was not around, thankfully.

Micah waited to propose his plan of action until they rode wall past camp. The idea originated from a drunk night out in Annesburg when he overheard an inebriated official bragging about a ‘secret operative party’ sent out to the West Elizabeth region to devise a method to break in uncouth outlaws. Micah offered to buy him a drink (and a dozen) and when the man inevitably left to throw up, he coerced the details out of him, choking him on bile.

All he had to do now is convince Dutch his way was the one to go.

“You know, boss, I’ve been thinkin’. It ain’t good for camp morale to let Arthur spring his slander on folk. And you know I never come empty-handed, I have a solution. We should check out this place called Wonder Land – it sounds silly, I recognize that, but what they do there is as far from silly as Pearson’s pecker is from his belly button.”

Dutch didn’t laugh, not a good sign. “I am not going to put my people in the hands of mountebanks and malpractitioners.”

“This is nothing like that, boss. They help people, they make them more docile. We could keep him safe, boss, and keep others safe from him.”

“Nonsense, I am not parting from anyone at this time when we need to stick together.”

He needs to hook the other bait, it appears.

“There is money to steal there, too.” Micah added slyly after a pause.

The Count skidded to a halt. “How much money could possibly be at a spot like that?”

“They receive funding from the government, in cash. Think about it, Dutch… we could send in Arthur to scope things out, be a distraction, then we would go in and take the money without real fuss, I was told there were no guards. We’d be so fast they wouldn’t know it was us, and we could spit in the face of the establishment.” he pleaded. He’ll make sure to dispose of Arthur in the middle of all this somehow.

Their leader was deep in thought. “This sounds too easy, but… if it is indeed easy, then who are we to say no to what amounts to a free handout when we’re in the throes of desperation?”

Micah grinned. “I’ll take you there.”

They reached Wonder Land by dusk; the gates were thrown wide open. An older fellow in a yellow robe was their welcome party.

“Are you the head of this prestigious establishment?” Dutch asked with a derisive tone.

“I certainly am, sir.” he humbly acknowledged. “Dr. Manny Gottlieb, pleased to make you acquaintance. Are you interested in our services, per chance?”

“Oh, it is not me you’re looking for, Dr. Gottlieb, but I would not mind if you could volunteer some information to me and my confidante here.” Dutch got off the Count and tipped his hat. “I am Reginald Henderson and he is Bernard Kinski. We are two businessmen who are afraid that one of their associates may have gone off track. We would like to steer him back in the right direction.”

“He will be in very good hands here, Mr. Henderson. Follow me to my office and let me explain our methods to you...”

The doctor's presentation left Dutch unimpressed.

“You specialize in hypnosis? That… practice is the very antithesis of what our business is about, not to mention it is a sham as old as time.” Dutch scoffed.

“But good sir, you haven’t seen any evidence yet. I take your for a principled gentleman, if I could just show you what we could do with the human mind…”

Micah stepped in, this was too good of an opening for him to pass up. “If I may, _Reginald_ , I think the doctor has a point.”

“I take it you wish to be a lab rat?”

“With all due respect, I presume it is you who would need more convincing, so it should be you who tried out this… procedure.”

“That will not happen, _Bernard_ , I will not enslave my mental faculties.”

“Is it your pride or your willpower that you worry about more?”

“Excuse me?” Dutch shot up from the chair, unwittingly following Micah’s script.

“All I’m saying is you have a lot of people to also worry about, boss, more than just your mental faculties. Those will serve you no good when our business gets shut down and it will get shut down if we don’t do nothing, you know it. Way I see it, Dr. Gottlieb is granting us the tiniest sliver of hope, we should hold onto it. Not to mention, if he could hypnotize you, he could hypnotize anyone, for example all of our… competitors.”

Dutch looked at him as if he could not decide to hit or thank him. Then as a sign of his compliance, he rolled up his sleeves and settled down into his chair again.

"I concede the sense in my companion's words, doctor. We shall see if you are a fraud or not."

Dr. Gottlieb immediately pushed his chair closer to Dutch's. Micah stepped closer as well, slowly inching towards his gun while the other two were busy.

“On the count to five, you shall do whatever you are ordered. When I say the code ‘drop back, Cadillac’, you return to your previous senses. Is that alright with you, Mr. Henderson?”

Dutch sighed. “Understood, to an extent reprehensively.”

Dr. Gottlieb retrieved a plain-looking pocket watch from his coat and swayed it rhythmically, level with Dutch’s head.

“Make yourself comfortable and when you are ready, concentrate on the face of this watch.” Micah saw that Dutch’s eyes were keeping up with the movement of the watch.

“Five….” Dutch smirked skeptically. “Four…” His hands grabbed the arms of his chair. “Three…” He wanted to say something, but couldn’t. “Two…” His lips and eyebrows relaxed. “One.” His eyes glazed over.

Micah checked on him. Dutch was unresponsive when he poked his shoulder.

“Doctor, color me impressed." he whistled out of appreciation. "You actually know what you are doing but don’t think for a second you’re the only one.” He finally drew out his gun, cocked it, and aimed it at the doctor who winced at the sight. “You will tell him to do precisely what I tell you or your hypnotizing days are over.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appriciated! Thank you for reading.


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